


The Welsh Rugby Shirt

by internetpiratearrr



Category: Sherlock (TV), Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 00:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12421710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/internetpiratearrr/pseuds/internetpiratearrr
Summary: Greg finds out about Mycroft's son, Ianto.





	The Welsh Rugby Shirt

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Good Many Family Trees Are Shady](https://archiveofourown.org/works/506411) by [blackkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat). 



> This is less of a Torchwood crossover and more me considering how a man as private as Mycroft might share important and personal information with Greg. I like fics about people finding out about shocking information and stuff so I thought it'd be fun to explore how the reveal that Mycroft has a son might go.

Mycroft walked into the bedroom having got home from work, just a little desperate to remove his jacket, roll up his sleeves, and lie back on the mattress with a book placed over his eyes to shield the early evening sun streaming between the shutters.

He was in no such luck, however, for as soon as he walked in the door he was greeted by Greg standing in an accusatory manner at the end of the bed. He'd obviously been waiting for him to get home, which Mycroft felt was needlessly dramatic, although he was fully aware this may be rich coming from him.  
  
"Would you care to explain what this is?" Mycroft looked at the garment Greg held out in front of him. Mycroft closed his eyes for a second and sighed,  
  
"I believe that is a rugby shirt."  
  
"It's a  _Welsh_  rugby shirt," Greg spat, the distaste and disgust clearly evident in his voice. And yet, he was eyeing Mycroft with a slightly mischievous glint meaning the reason behind this confrontation probably had an ulterior motive.  
  
"Greg-" Mycroft began wearily, although there was a tinge of a smile playing at the corner of the mouth, one almost imperceptible to anyone but Greg.  
  
"No, I'm talking. I can put up with the late hours and the mysterious phone calls to Russia and your damn brother and his damn manners but this," Greg gestures to the shirt, "this is the last straw. Where is your national pride?"

And with that he kissed Mycroft soundly against the door Mycroft had closed behind him.  
  
...  
  
Later, as Mycroft lay in bed, his head resting against Greg's shoulder, Mycroft murmed, "you know, I don't actually support Wales."  
  
"Wait what?" Greg turned to look at him, propping himself up on his elbow.  
  
"Loath them actually," Mycroft admitted, and Greg snorted and burst into laughter falling back on to the bed and burying his face in Mycroft's shoulder. Mycroft failed to repress a smile and then gave up.  
  
After a good minute or so, Greg attempted to pull himself together, "Then why do you have the shirt?" He asked, still grinning.  
  
"My son bought it for me." Mycroft said quietly.  
  
"Wait what?" Greg sat up again, his face far more serious and his brow furrowed in confusion.  
  
"Well given that I am a staunch England supporter, Ianto thought it would be funny if he were to give me-"   
  
"Mycroft," Greg stopped him. Mycroft closed his eyes,  
  
"When I was very young, my first major assignment was to, ah, seduce Russia's finest spy. I suppose they thought that since I was  _not that way inclined_  I wouldn't get attached. And I didn't, however the only way to access her information was to,"  
  
"Access her?" Greg cut in. Mycroft gave him a stern, disappointed gaze. Greg smiled slightly and ran his fingers through Mycroft's hair, "I'm sorry, go on."  
  
"Well that's about it i suppose; she had a child but neither of us were allowed to keep it. Ianto was adopted by a Welsh family in Cardiff. After that I gave up field work and instead climbed my way up the ranks and as soon as I was able to, given my position in government, I contacted him. We get on well. He hadn't had a good relationship with his adoptive father so I think he likes having someone genuinely there for him, although he tends to be quite private."  
  
Greg breathed a heavy sigh, "why didn't you bring this up sooner? Why wait for me to find out?" Mycroft was quiet in a way that many would take as icy, but Greg knew better and felt the sheepishness in it. "Oh God,"he muttered despairingly. "That was you bringing it up, wasn't it. You wanted me to find the shirt."  
  
Mycroft gave a small smile which Greg knew to be confirmation.  
  
"You're ridiculous, you know that? You Holmes's are all just ridiculous fools who rely on unnecessary dramatics in order to communicate."  
  
"You love us for it though."  
  
"For my sins." Greg paused for a moment before asking tentatively, "would it - I mean - could I maybe meet him at some point?"  
  
Mycroft was silent again.  
  
"You've already planned a meal haven't you. When is the reservation? Not tonight because I swear if it's tonight-" Mycroft kissed him, cutting him off.  
  
"Saturday, at that Italian place you like. He's bringing his partner, too. I've only met Jack briefly before, so it should be a novel experience for us both."  
  
"That sounds great, Mycroft. Thanks." Greg smiled at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"Sharing I guess, I know it's not something that comes easily. It means a lot to me that you trust me enough to tell me these things. So tell me, what's his job?"  
  
"Ah."  
  


**Epilogue:**

_Three months later_  
  
"You know what I've just realised?" Greg turned to Mycroft who was sat next to him on the couch, the credits of Star Trek playing on the television.   
  
"No, but please enlighten me."  
  
"I've never asked you if aliens exist."  
  
"Why would you do that?"   
  
"Well you know," Greg said, popping a crisp into his mouth, "you're a creepy high up government official, if anyone's going to know if aliens exist it's you." Mycroft raised his eyebrows. "You would tell me if aliens exist wouldn't you? You know you could trust me?"  
  
"Would I tell you if aliens existed." Mycroft repeated dryly.  
  
"Oh God, we shouldn't watch another Trek, it's making me delusional."

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't been a part of either fandom for a while but I was reading my old book marks and I guess I was just momentarily inspired? Hope you enjoyed this at any rate :)


End file.
